226) The Salvation of Eden, Chapter 52 -- Form is Emptiness; Emptiness is Form

Later, in the bowels of the night, as the conversation lulled and most people dozed in the fire’s warmth, Kohra murmured to Grok, “I know what my question is now.”

Grok smiled, a little sleepy. “Sure.”

“I want to know why the Wild is the Source, but the Flux is also the Source. It has to be one or the other, doesn’t it? And there’s no chance that it’s not the Flux. I mean, the teachings on Shaping are very clear. It is the interdependence between Chaos and Law, that is the key to Power. We use the Flux to access Chaos, to Connect with it, and then we learn to Shape it, like how Law shapes Chaos into Order.”

She paused, taking a deep breath. “So, the Flux itself is the Source, the ultimate Source, that gives rise to the more orderly, organized things in reality. Like us! Does that make sense?”  Emptiness is Form, flashed through her mind.

Grok nodded, her eyes half closed as though she was falling asleep. “I should be the one asking you, young Elf. Your theoretical comprehension of Shaping far surpasses mine.”

Kohra ignored the compliment; compliments always made her uncomfortable, like the person must be joking with her somehow. Besides, nobody ever called her an Elf, except derogatorily, but clearly Grok didn’t mean it that way. The way she said it made Kohra feel…seen.

She pressed on. “But if the Flux is the Source, and you said the Wild is the Source, then…yeah, I don’t get it.”

She could see Grok’s smile in the dim light of the fire. “And this is important to you?”

“Yes it is.”

“Do you know why?”
“Yes, I do.” And I really don’t want to talk about it. She remembered that day, on the stairs in her dad’s house. When “Her” hand reached out and grabbed Kohra’s throat. It was like time stopped. She was too stunned even to cry out. The look in Her eyes, those cold fingers. And after so much, so much they had shared in…in the beginning. 

Never again. That is never happening to me again. 

“Yes, I do know why,” she repeated. 

Grok nodded. “Good.” Just like that, she accepted Kohra’s answer, without pressing for more, asking questions, being curious or trying to “help” her. It was surprising, to simply be accepted like that.

“Let me ask you, Kohra, what do YOU think is the difference between the Flux and the Wild?”

“The Wild? Uhhh, I don’t know! Aren’t they pretty much the opposites of each other? Like, the Flux is supposed to be Chaos, right? It’s the underlying ever-changing flow of everything. I often think of the skyflows. But the Wild, isn’t that ALL the living things in the worlds that haven’t yet been civilized? The beasts, animals, plants, mountains, rivers, forests? Isn’t the Wild what emerges out of the Flux? Aren’t they kind of like the opposite of each other?”

Form is emptiness.

Grok considered carefully before responding. “If the Wild is made of things like mountains, what about the rocks and soil that comprise the mountain? If the Wild is things like animals, what about the blood flowing in their veins, or the sensations they are experiencing moment to moment? If the Wild is a forest, what about the rainstorm that waters it? And is the storm itself not each individual raindrop, and the currents of air that carry them? And where do these come from? Don’t they come from everywhere?”

Kokra didn’t say anything in response. She felt this was important. They were on to something here. It just wasn’t clear what that was.

Grok looked sideways at her. “Did you notice the black lake on your way here?”

Kohra nodded, a shiver running up her spine as she remembered the horrifying indifference of that place. 

“Was that the Flux, or the Wild?”

Kohra thought for a few minutes, staring into the fire. “Okay, let me try again. The Flux is Chaos, like I said. And Chaos is mostly about change; it’s about destruction, and decay, and disorganization. It’s about things falling apart. But, according to the teachings, Chaos is also about growth and birth, the creation of new possibilities.”

She paused. She didn’t know where she was going with this but, it felt like her mind was opening to something new, something she hadn’t considered before. 

“There’s a connection somehow. I don’t really understand it, but there’s a connection between these two sides of Chaos. Somehow, the creation side and the destruction side have a relationship with each other. It’s like the destruction side is the raw power or energy or something, and the creation side is the specific boundary, or channel, that makes it flow in a certain way. That’s why some people call Shaping ‘channeling’, right?” She paused for a moment, taking the last sip from her wine glass. 

“I like calling it Shaping, because I learned that it’s like a potter shaping clay. Inside the clay is infinite potential, but without the potter, nothing would manifest out of it. It would just be a glob of clay. But once you add the potter’s skill and attention, all focused through the potter’s hands, then a Thing is Shaped, or formed, out of the infinite potential.”

When she was finished, Grok was smiling. “Yes, that makes sense to me. So Kohra, if I tell you that your understanding of the Flux and my understanding of the Wild are exactly the same, could you imagine that?”

Kohra thought for a moment. The idea seemed so ridiculous, she thought at first Grok was pulling her leg. 

“Well, no! To be honest, I can’t see them as the same at all! I mean, when I think of ‘magic’ or ‘energy’ or ‘Chaos’, it’s pretty different from if I think ‘Dragon’ or ‘Ogre’ or ‘Earthborn’. Kohra felt pretty confident about herself. She didn’t understand what it was that Grok seemed to have such difficulty grasping.

“I see,” Grok replied thoughtfully. “I do see how these things can be seen as different. But you can also choose to focus on their not-difference.”

Kohra was silent, expecting more. That just didn’t make sense. “Uhhh, so, you’re telling me that, to you, a big ogre with a club, and a lifeless black lake, are the same?”

The red-haired woman smiled, finger to her lips. “But shhh. It’s kind of a secret. Most people don’t know how to understand.”

“Um, yeah, I don’t understand either.”

Grok put her hand-presence on Kohra’s again, momentarily. “You understand better than you think.” She looked at her intently, like she was hoping Kohra would understand the full meaning of her words, even though it was obvious that, right now at least, she really didn’t. “I’m going to turn in now though. Good night, Kohra. Thank you for a truly stimulating conversation.” 

“Uh, yeah, good night, Grok. You gave me a lot to think about too.”

Grok turned to the others, who’d been half-listening but mostly dozing through their esoteric discussion. Everybody knew that Kohra thought too much about everything, and they’d all gotten quite skilled at tuning her out. “Sleep as long as you wish; you can stay in here if you want. Sea and Sky certainly won’t mind the company.  And anyway, we’ve got a blizzard coming in. Nobody’s going anywhere for at least a couple of days. Good night all.”

Kohra watched her walk to the door. There was something elegant about even the way she walked. The seemingly-humble trading-post-owner grew more mysterious, the more she got to know her. Her telekinetic Shaping abilities were phenomenal, more than making up for her lack of hands, as far as Kohra could tell. Watching her weave those dozens of fibrous cords into that beautiful netting was awesome; she’d never have believed such fine control of the Flux was even possible. 

But what about the stories of the Arch Mages of old? Surely wielding that kind of power required even more nuanced control of the Flux? Those people, legends now, must have been somehow different from everyone else. Even from people like her, who could Shape, who did know how to Connect with the Flux. She was nothing, not even one ten-thousandth of the great Mages in the stories. 

In her better moments, Kohra believed, deep down inside, that she COULD do it, that she had greatness “in there somewhere” and she’d figure out how to bring it out, eventually. But that was her better moments. In the rest of them, she was beset by doubts, embarrassment, and the fear that people would find her arrogant or selfish if she truly dedicated herself to her own flourishing. Who was she to think that she had some “special potential?” Weren’t there more important things to do in the world? People to help? Chores to do? And how arrogant! Believing in her “potential” just seemed ridiculous.

Underneath all those questions, all the doubts, laying like a tectonic plate underneath her being, lay the “knowledge” that IF she ever did succeed, IF she ever did gain power and have the ability to make a difference, she would fail. She would screw it all up. She would screw it all up because at the moment of truth, she wouldn’t have what it takes. She knew it. She NEVER wanted anyone else to know it, but she knew it, her own little dark secret she held close to her heart. 

What would hurt the most is to try, to put everything you have into something, and fail anyway.  That would be the worst.

Grok closed the door quietly behind her, as though respecting the profundity of what they had collectively created that night, as though she didn’t want to disturb even the air with her passing, as though whatever “presence” they had brought into being amongst themselves could, if she was gentle enough, persist in the room a little while longer. 

Grok doesn’t seem to struggle with knowing who she is. She is this place, and Sea and Sky and decades’ worth of secrets. 

She is amazing. 

Kohra fell asleep imagining herself older, wiser, at peace, in a place like this. Maybe hers would be full of plants. 

Galen swum into her mind, puttering around his little island in the swamp. Jorn the blacksmith who turned out to be the Silver Lady and her meticulous workshop. Juanita and her stories of the sea. Strawberries and lilac….